Quadrumvirate
by Watermelonsmellinfellon
Summary: 31 October 1994, Harry Potter's name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, four times! Hogwarts is now host to four Harry Potters with different ideals. Harry's dimension is thrown into chaos when four Dark Lords, who each want to be in charge, are added to the mix. At least things seem to be looking up for Harry since his counterparts want to mentor him!A/N:Het&Slashfem-Harry&mas-Harry


**A/N: Hello, people! New fic!**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **I have no beta!**

 **ENJOY!**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**

 **-4 Harry Potters are the Triwizard Champions. 2 fem-Harry and 2 mas-Harry.**

 **-Dimension Travel.**

 **-HarrymortX4. 4 Harrymort pairings.**

 **-Morally Grey Dumbles.**

 **-Harry gets some mentoring.**

 **-This idea hit me a few days ago and I absolutely had to do it!**

* * *

 **QUADRUMVIRATE- kwäˈdrəmvərət- noun- a group of four powerful or notable people** _(according to Google)_ **.**

* * *

Harry Potter did not fully understand what was going on. It was supposed to be the choosing ceremony for the Triwizard Champions and yet, when the Beauxbatons parchment had erupted from the Goblet of Fire, the name Dumbledore had spoken sent the entire Great Hall into silence and had everyone looking at Harry in confusion. Confusion that the young Gryffindor was also feeling.

Before he could defend himself against their accusing stares, the blue flames in the Goblet turned a familiar shade of green and everyone leaned away as the fire expanded. A trail of flames shot upward from the center and like a whip, slammed against the floor beside Dumbledore with a sharp _crack_!

Laying on the cold stone floor of the Great Hall, was a young woman, wearing the female uniform of Beauxbatons, her hat askew and her legs sprawled out. She pushed herself to her feet and dusted herself off, waving her wand once and making her hair straighten out of its mess.

Dumbledore - never one to let shock linger too much - approached her carefully and inquired after her name.

Her response not only shocked the entire school, but confused them all over again.

"Hariel Jayme Potter, Monsieur," she said in a thick, French accent, giving a flourishing bow that made her blue clothed body look like flowing water.

As Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak again, the Goblet of Fire turned blue once more and spat out another piece of parchment. Regaining his bearings, Dumbledore caught the piece and read off the name.

"The Durmstrang Champion is... Harry Potter."

The Goblet went green once again and another whip of fire descended on the Great Hall, depositing another being, though this one did not fall over. They remained on their feet, strong and determined. It was a familiar face. That of Harry Potter, but he was wearing the brown uniform of Durmstrang and in his left hand was a large staff, intricately carved.

"Vhy haff I been summoned?" he demanded in a thick accent that sounded very Russian.

"And you are?"

"Haraldr James Potter."

By the time the Goblet acted up again, Harry had resigned himself to this because it was already too confusing and he knew it would only get worse.

"The Hogwarts Champion is... Harry Potter."

Why was he not surprised?

Before Harry could stand however, the Goblet spat out another, this one much closer in appearance to Harry than the other two, but still female. And her robes! They were trimmed with green and silver, not red and gold.

"Headmaster," she said coldly. "What is going on?"

"Who are you, miss?"

"Harriet Potter-Black, you know this," snarked the young woman.

A gasp rang through the Hall and Harry simply placed his head on the table.

No more.

He didn't want to hear any more.

Hermione nudged his arm, "Harry!"

He looked up in time to see the Goblet bleed red, the flames rising higher than before. The other Harrys all backed away as enchanted fire swirled dangerously around the cup and a final piece of parchment exploded from the top before the flames died completely.

"Harry Potter," came the dull announcement.

Nothing happened. For nearly a full minute, nothing else happened. Until Hermione began pushing on his shoulder and telling him to 'get up there so this can be sorted'.

He stood on shaky legs, feeling every manner of worry and fear rising up inside of him. His ears were strangely silent, almost plugged with deafness. He also noticed that none of the students had anything to say, still looking so shocked.

And the other Harry Potters were just... calculating.

He looked up at Dumbledore, finding no answers forthcoming in the old wizard's gaze.

"I think… it's best that we adjourn to my office in order to sort this all out. This is quite the surprise," the man finally said.

Understatement of the year.

* * *

"Can each of you start by telling who you are and how you came to be here?"

The four Harry Potters were surrounded in the small office by the different Headmasters and Ministry officials. The Heads of House were also in attendance.

The Beauxbatons Harry rolled her eyes. "I 'ave given my name already. I am in my sixth year at Beauxbatons. Delegates of my school 'ad come to 'ogwarts for zee Triwizard Tournament and I 'ad entered. The Goblet of Fire began to act strangely and a green light hit me in zee chest. I found myself 'ere."

Her hair was long and black, pulled into a detailed plait that trailed to the seat of the chair she was seated in. Her eyes - the exact same shade of Harry's own - sparkled with annoyance.

The Durmstrang boy puffed up, chest broad and shoulders wide. "I attend Durmstrang. I haff reached my final year and I too entered the Trivizard Tournament. The same happened for me."

His black hair was buzzed in the back and on the sides, leaving the top longer and combed toward his brow. A dark fringe was hanging in front of his deadly, green orbs. He seemed like the 'no nonsense' sort.

"Well _I'm_ a Slytherin seventh year and had decided to enter when Malfoy boasted that he was the only one worthy in the school to be chosen. Obviously - no matter how odd an occurrence this is - the spoiled brat _isn't_ worthy."

She exuded an aura of calm, self-confidence. She reminded Harry of Daphne Greengrass. Like ice and just as cold. Her hair was short but layered around her head, her fringe clipped back to reveal her forehead where a familiar scar resided.

All attention turned to Harry and the fourteen year old sighed, "I don't even want to be here."

There was a scoff from his right and Snape decided it was time for his input. "Potter obviously did this for attention, like the arrogant brat that he is."

Harry was ready to retaliate but an icy voice from his left called his attention. It was Slytherin Harry and she looked displeased and unimpressed.

"I was under the impression that an emotional invective from someone that lacks any foreknowledge on the subject in question, was only ever uttered by foolish Gryffindors," she said, tone as frigid as a winter in the highlands. She cast an askance look at the Head of Slytherin and sneered, "You most certainly aren't _my_ Head of House, for he actually uses his brain before speaking."

She promptly ignored the irate professor, turning her attention to Harry instead.

"You do not wish to compete?"

"No. This was supposed to be my calm year where someone else was in danger and I didn't have to do the work," he said, sounding petulant and not caring in the slightest.

"Then refuse to compete."

"There is a binding magical contract!" Ludo Bagman hissed.

Slytherin Harry rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I'm the only person who read all of the rules? If someone is entered without having given permission for another to enter them, they can back out gracefully. If the writing on the parchment isn't yours, then the magic of the one who entered you without permission, will be removed the moment you declare your desire to not compete. So we shall see who is the offender."

"What do I do?" he asked imploringly because he wanted out of this quickly.

"Just say your full name, your status, admit that you weren't entered willingly and that you do not wish to compete, and magic will take care of the rest."

"Status? Like, me being a Halfblood?"

Harry could tell his question made a lot of people question his intelligence. Slytherin Harry though, wasn't looking at him like he was an idiot. Instead, she seemed to be annoyed.

"You don't know your heritage, do you?"

The other two Harrys sucked in deep breaths of shock, staring at him in horror.

" _Huh_?"

He was beginning to get annoyed. What didn't he know and why did everyone else seem to know it?

"I'm not surprised," she mumbled, casting a sneer in... Dumbledore direction?

"I'm certain a bumbling, old fool decided that it was for the 'greater good' that you not know about your status as the Heir to a Most Ancient and Noble House."

With how strongly she was glaring at Dumbledore, Harry could determine that his Headmaster had kept something of import from him and he too turned to the man with demanding eyes.

Dumbledore sighed, "You do not need to know about thi-"

" _Albus_!" McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick yelled in unison.

"The boy doesn't wish to compete!" said the Gryffindor Head of House shrilly. "Just because you don't think he has a right to know about his family doesn't mean he shouldn't know! You were supposed to keep him abreast of the situation!"

Flitwick shuffled in his seat, where he was standing on a stack of thick books. "Is this why he doesn't know the customs? Is it because you did not do your job as his Magical Guardian and neglected to teach him what he should have known upon coming to Hogwarts?"

"So Mr. Potter _isn't_ lazy, he's simply uninformed?" Sprout asked, looking sad.

Harry stood amidst the growing tensions. " _What_ is a Magical Guardian?!" he demanded.

"ALBUS!" McGonagall roared. "You said you kept an eye on him over the years!"

Harry and Slytherin Harry both snorted and cast each other a look for it. But Harry did add, "I only met him when he pulled me away from the Mirror of Erised. I never met him before that."

McGonagall had never gone that shade of red before. "You said he was happy and healthy," she gritted out, eyes dangerously narrowed.

Once again, Harry and Slytherin Harry scoffed as one.

'Happy and healthy'? By whose definition? His life at the Dursleys was not happy and he was certain it wasn't healthy either.

"Arabella assured me that he was fine. I am a busy man-"

McGonagall scoffed this time. "You forget that _I_ see you most out of everyone, Albus. You've had a lot of free time on your hands these past few years, if you did not do your duty to Mr. Potter, I will be petitioning the Wizengamot to change his guardianship!"

" _Aye_ ," Sprout and Flitwick nodded firmly, displeasure rolling off them in waves.

"Now Minerv-"

"Don't try to back out of this! I will have the memories of everyone in this room if need be!"

Dumbledore, seemingly cowed, backed down instantly. "I felt that he wasn't ready yet."

Crouch decided to step in then. "As former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it's my duty to inform you that you have broken an important law. He was supposed to be told at age eight when his tutoring was to begin. He should then have been given him the key to his trust vault where he was then to be given his financial records so he may begin learning how to invest and keep the family wealth from stagnating. If you have refused him these courtesies, as a Ministry Official, I will have to report you."

"I don't even _have_ my key!" Harry bellowed, annoyance building higher as more of this was revealed. "I've never held it! Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley have had it! And when I asked for it, I was told I didn't need it!"

"'Don't need it'!" sputtered Crouch. "You're an Heir to an important House, of course you need it! You're supposed to be using particular cloths befitting your station and have robes with your House Crest on them!"

"I don't have robes."

"He most likely doesn't own anything but these shabby clothes too. They belong to his overweight, spoiled cousin," Slytherin Harry pitched in, frowning still. "I didn't get _my_ key until third year and it was because I had run to Diagon Alley and had to get money, but since someone else held my key, I needed a new key and lock to be made. That was when _my_ life changed. He hasn't experienced his epiphany but I feel it's coming."

She nodded, folding her arms. "When I learned everything, I shed it all. No more filthy rags, no more worrying over using second hand items for fear of spending too much because I thought my trust vault was all I had, no more being pushed around. The indignity- I tell you, is deep and it would be best to resolve this issue now before you have a potentially volatile teenager on your hands. We wouldn't want to alienate him, would we? Imagine the backlash if Harry Potter gave up on Britain and went elsewhere because he's been so wronged."

Harry could tell that she was enjoying this a bit and he had a feeling it was because of the look of horror on Dumbledore's face. She really didn't like him and after all of these bombs being dropped, he was beginning to lose faith as well.

"Well the lad needs to be informed!" said Crouch, stepping forward, trying to seem all important. "Mr. Potter, you simply swear on your magic thus, 'I, Harry James Potter, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, swear on my magic that I did not enter myself, nor give permission for myself to be entered into the Triwizard Tournament held in the year nineteen hundred and ninety-four. As a guilt free soul, I wish for Magic to judge the accused and remove me from this contract.'"

"What does 'swearing on magic' do?" Harry asked, not liking how ominous it sounded.

The Heads of House cast Dumbledore another dark look.

"I means that you are willing to swear on your magic to prove you are right. If you truly are guilt free in this, your magic stays with you and judges the one responsible, sucking away their magic and giving it to you in recompense," Slytherin Harry explained when no answer was forthcoming. "If you are guilty, you will lose your magic instead."

The thought of losing his magic as horrible, but Harry _knew_ that he wasn't in the wrong here! So he took the plunge and gave the vow.

Harry could feel a tingling in his spine, warm and inviting. He sighed, feeling more relaxed than he had in months.

" **AAHHHHHH**!"

The pained cry came from the back of the room where they all turned to see Professor Moody crouched on the floor, his body glowing a bright shade of green.

"Alastor?" Dumbledore called in worry.

The light gathered above the man's head and expanded suddenly, shooting in Harry's direction and slamming into the teen's chest. Harry blinked at the feeling of his body being invaded by something much more cold than he was used to.

"No," whispered McGonagall, looking horror-struck.

Flitwick flicked his wand, tying the writhing man up on ropes.

"Why, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked, standing from his throne like chair.

"I don't think that's Alastor Moody," said Bagman, finally deciding to become a part of the discussion.

Not Moody? Then who could it be?

"Severus, have you any Veritaserum?" Dumbledore asked the Slytherin Head of House, who was already moving, withdrawing something from his robes.

Harry frowned, not knowing what it was.

"Powerful truth serum," whispered Slytherin Harry.

The man on the floor was drugged and Snape began a harsh questioning, in which the results horrified most of the people in the room save for the four Harrys.

"We need to inform the Minister and the Wizengamot of this," Crouch said, not looking at the man who had just admitted to being his son.

"There is no going back now."

* * *

 **A/N: The first is done!**

 **How was it? Let me know!**

 **Check out my other fics!**

 **See ya! :D**

 **CHECK ME OUT ON TUMBLR. HELLY-WATERMELONSMELLINFELLON. I FOLLOW BACK.**


End file.
